


The Saiyan Way of Life

by smjaygal



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18628219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smjaygal/pseuds/smjaygal
Summary: The infamous gap is where we start. Where we'll end, nobody knows. Least of all me.





	1. Goku

**Author's Note:**

> I took canon out back and shot it like a rabid dog because I have so many complaints. I'm making everyone get therapy and everyone is a polyamorous mess because I said so. I know I have this as explicit and I tagged relationships in a way that spoils some stuff but fuck it. My fic. Hop aboard this fucking dumpster fire and let's go!
> 
> (Also I'm making Saiyans very Distinctly less human than canon ever has. If that's a squick, you'll want to skip the sexy chapters.)

Goku raked his fingers through his hair, stressed more than words could say. The Androids were coming soon and he couldn't train hard enough. He'd died once before after having his son kidnapped by his alien brother. An alien!

He punched a tree in frustration and down it went. That was probably going to have to be firewood for the week. Whatever. He'd chop it after he got it back home. He had some things he needed to work through.

Chichi was busy with Gohan's studies which left Goku to train on his own. He was glad for it. He didn't want his family seeing him like this.

He was going to have to calm down if he had any hope of regaining focus.

So the Saiyan sat, crossing his legs like Piccolo did and closing his eyes to minimize distractions. He breathed deep, releasing the air as slowly as possible. Ok. He could do this. One issue at a time.

Gohan had been kidnapped which had been quite the ordeal in and of itself. The kidnapper revealed himself to be his  _ brother  _ which was even more of a shock. Then he'd found out he was a wholeass alien from, like, outer space and shit.

Goku felt his heart speeding up so he slowed down. He was starting to get overwhelmed with all the issues already. One thing at a time. Gohan had been kidnapped. And why was that?

He had been too weak to stop it.

That thought was a suckerpunch to the gut and all the air left Goku's lungs. He was left feeling cold and hollow. He grit his teeth to move past it. The truth sucked but that didn't make it any less the truth. Accepting that gave part of him some relief though it still felt awful. Different feeling but still awful. What was it?

Failure.

He felt like a failure.

It was his job as Gohan's dad to love and provide for him and that including protecting his son. And Goku had failed. He'd thought he was strong after winning martial arts tournaments and dealing with King Piccolo. He'd thought he could handle anything.

And he'd been so very wrong.

It was a tough pill to swallow but swallow it Goku did. He hadn't been strong enough to protect his son. The solution to that problem was to keep training, getting stronger. That was certainly something he could do.

So. The alien brother thing. He'd thought he was an only child. He'd known Gohan had found him in the middle of nowhere as a baby. Later, Roshi had taught him how babies were made and he'd figured he'd come about the same way. It only made sense that way. He just hadn't known where he'd come from up until Raditz showed up. And kidnapped Gohan.

_ Stop _ , he told himself, shelving the kidnapping issue for later. He'd already dealt with that. He had to unpack things one at a time if he was going to clear his mind so he could train and not level the whole forest.

It wasn't like he could just skip past this and focus on something else. Everything that had happened since Raditz had happened because of or in response to that life altering event. He had to work through that whole mess of nonsense even if thinking hurt his head and the feelings broke hid heart. Goku couldn't have Chichi or Gohan worrying about him. He owed it to them as a husband and father not to worry either of them. He had to stay cheerful for their sakes. Chichi had always been anxious, after all, and she'd passed that onto Gohan. They relied on his bright spirit to get them through their worries.

Inhale for four.

Hold it. Keep holding. Feel the air sting. Hold it just a beat longer.

E x h a l e .

Raditz. An alien. Vegeta. Death. Tails. How did it all come together? Raditz, Napa, and Vegeta all had tails. Goku himself had been born with a tail. They'd all had spiky black hair that didn't really obey gravity except Napa. He was bald but it looked similar to Krillin so he probably shaved his head. They'd all been broad and muscular in a way that wasn't human.

Something Goku had noticed long ago was that most fighters were muscular but not sculpted. Their skin rippled over their forms certainly but it didn't hug every group of muscles like plastic wrap. The men had the start of abs sometimes and the women's stomachs were tight. Some fighters were wiry and built for speed like Chichi. Some were almost fat with torsos and arms like tree trunks. But nobody had been chiseled like he was.

The closest he'd ever seen was bodybuilders. Very specifically, Goku had been spending some time with Bulma when they were much younger and she'd flipped on the TV. There were men practically naked, their forms bulging and round. He'd been confused and asked what kinds of fighters they were and Bulma had explained things to him.

The memory had stayed with him so strongly because he'd never before seen a person like those men on TV. Over the years, he began to resemble them and there'd been a vague question mark that he'd shrugged off in the same area as his inhuman appetite. But when he'd seen those aliens, he'd noticed they looked like those bodybuilders, like him. And they'd fought too when Bulma had said that bodybuilding was about looks and that those guys couldn't fight at all.

The similarities had been too great to ignore. There was their body types, their hair, their tails, and their drive to fight. Goku had come to the conclusion long ago that he had more in common with these men than he did anyone else he'd ever met.

Oh and then there was the GIANT MONKEY THING nobody had told him about. He wished they had. He would have torn it off with his bare hands years ago had he known about it. He'd killed his own grandpa, almost killed master Roshi at the tournament, and so many others on other occasions. Goku hadn't wanted to hurt anybody but they'd all kept that truth from him. He could turn into a monkey as could Gohan and Vegeta. Probably every Saiyan could.

But the reality hadn't sunk in until just then. That had to explain why Chichi hadn't gotten pregnant but the once even though they'd wanted a really big family. Goku was no fool. He'd been raised on the mountain and he knew a dog and a cat couldn't make a baby. Though, somehow, they'd made Gohan.

That thought process was giving him a headache. He'd have to go to Bulma about that some other time. She was a lot smarter than he was, the daughter of a really rich and famous scientist who had surpassed her father in her own right while he was just some country bumpkin hick who didn't know how to read until he was 12. He still had trouble reading as a matter of fact.

Goku mentally shelved the alien thing. He'd go to Bulma and have her sort that out. Onto the next issue.

He'd killed his own grandfather. Well, Gohan had adopted him but same difference. The old man had selflessly cared for him - the same way he'd done for his own son - and not abandoned him, unlike his birth parents. The only reason he ever changed from violence to peace was that hit on the head.

Goku shivered, not liking the implications. He couldn't find it in himself to believe anyone was born evil. If that were the case, Gohan would have been an evil baby. But he'd been happy, if challenging. Poor Chichi couldn't make enough milk and had to feed him formula too. He distinctly remembered the doctor being shocked to know Gohan ate two to three times the amount of other babies. Maybe Goku had just been born bad and his grandfather's love had changed him?

But there was his head injury to consider. Maybe there was something that went on in Saiyan culture that made them violent? He'd have to ask Vegeta about that. If ever he came around from being, well, whatever the hell he was.

Gah! He was getting off topic worrying about alien stuff again! He needed to focus!

Goku breathed deeply, centering himself once more. His eyes were still closed as he thought. He'd killed Gohan. Him. Goku. He'd been the reason for the old man's death.

Goku swallowed hard and felt tears stream down his cheeks. He'd mourned long ago but the weight of guilt was something new. He'd lost control and killed a sweet old man just doing his best. Yes, it was the alien in him but it was still he who had done it. It was all his fault grandpa Gohan had died just as it was his fault his son had been kidnapped.

His fault. All his fault.

Weakness and a lack of self discipline was what had done it, Goku was certain. If he had had more control of himself, that never would have happened. As to whether or not the old man would still be alive was up for debate. But it wouldn't weigh so heavily on his conscious as it did now.

So the solution was strength and self control. Goku could absolutely work on that to ensure it never happened again. He didn't want anyone else to suffer for his flaws ever again. He'd long since had his tail severed permanently so his only shortcomings now could be fixed with training. Ok. That was addressed. What else was weighing on his mind?

His death.

He felt his fists clench involuntarily at the memory of dying and, very carefully, he slowly relaxed, exerting every ounce of control he had in himself to do so. Self discipline was the first step to true strength after all.

He'd been on snake way, entered Hell, encountered Princess Snake, and finally made it to King Kai's planet and the whole time his only objective had been King Kai. He'd been so focused on running and then on training he hadn't really dealt with the fact that he'd died. The one thing that had occupied his thoughts endlessly was to train, to protect. Goku had been consumed, obsessed over his own weakness, saving his son and protecting his wife. Protecting his friends too, of course. But his family would always come first.

He'd run without breaks until he collapsed more than once. That had cost him an express trip straight to Hell and then an angry princess. Demon? Snake person thing. He'd learned to rest when he was tired and keep going after short bursts after that. Eventually, though, he'd had to crawl on his belly to finish the journey. Not that Goku had cared. Anything for Chichi and Gohan. Anything at all for them.

He would slit his own throat if it would make either of them happy.

The obsession to be strong enough for anything when he was eventually wished alive again had driven all of Goku's actions. He'd only taken breaks to eat and sometimes sleep. Being dead came with similar drawbacks to being alive it seemed but he had taken them in stride, sweating every minute he had free.

King Kai had remarked on this behavior a time or two but hadn't ever pushed. It was like he could sense Goku was in a dark, focused place despite the smiles and easy going words.

Regardless, he could come back to that later. In the meantime, he realized he hadn't allowed himself to process dying properly. It had been traumatic feeling his ribs crunch beneath another's boot. Sometimes, he woke up in a cold sweat with that sound ringing in his ears. But he'd kept quiet to keep his poor Chichi from worrying, holding her tight as proof he was alive and she was safe.

There was a bitterness there that lingered in a way nothing else ever had. Goku had lost his fair share of fights but he had always come back stronger and the ultimate victor. There had been no qi within his senses stronger than his in years. He'd grown complacent in the knowledge that he could face any threat and ended up slacking on his training a bit. Sure, he'd exercised and kept up with his routines to stay the strongest on the planet but he hadn't been pushing himself to improve.

Clearly, that had been a mistake. It could have cost him Chichi so very easily and his poor wife had spent a year in frantic worry over their son. He couldn't remember who had ultimately told her of his death - probably Krillin - and it had caused her pain Goku couldn't begin to fathom.

His mistake had caused her pain and for that, he could never forgive himself.

Not ever.

So it was decided then. His death was his own fault. He hadn't stayed at the top of his game and it had very nearly cost him everything in the process. That meant he would have to spend the rest of his life, no his very  _ existence,  _ growing stronger. He could not allow his family to be put in danger like that ever again. Not ever, for any reason. He would cut himself into pieces, carve out his eyes and tongue, whatever he needed to ensure their continued safety.

Ok so that was a huge issue dealt with and its solution so neatly fit with his solution for Gohan's kidnapping. And, if he thought about it, it was the same solution that would have kept Gohan safe on Namek. His own body had betrayed him, punishing him for lack of discipline. He'd then had to see Krillin a heap of blood and pain, Bulma's fear so thick he could taste it, and his son's almost animalistic panic. It had taken every ounce of his self control to stay true to his training and not kill needlessly or brutalize his opponents. That just meant he had to get stronger so mercy and compassion didn't take such titanic effort.

Finally, his mind was at peace. His emotions were placed in neat little boxes and filed accordingly. He had examined his problems and the emotions they caused one by one and found solutions. Finally, he could focus.

Breathing deeply once more, Goku stood. That's when his stomach snarled, reminding him it was time for lunch. Well, he supposed he was going to have to take his time and walk back home. It would cultivate patience no matter how badly he wanted his wife's cooking. It was the first step on his journey and one he took with an enormous tree slung over one shoulder.

Step by step, Goku made his way back to his childhood home where he felt his family's qi burning brightly. It made him smile to feel that familiar warmth. Their qi was just as beautiful as they were and he couldn't help but think to himself how lucky he was to have his wife and son. Chichi was too good to him, keeping him in line so he didn't embarrass himself and her cooking was the best he'd ever had. She made sure Gohan grew up smarter than either of them ever had so he could function in society, something everybody knew Goku couldn't really do. She was strict and fierce and stubborn and golly did he really love her.

Not for the first time, Goku found himself warm all over and heart thrumming painfully at the thought of his cute wife. Part of him wished she would spar with him like she used to before she got pregnant. She never looked more enchanting than when she was swinging punches at him. Maybe one day they'd trade blows again. Or rather she would swing at him and he would pull his punches so he'd poke her. Her face would scrunch up all cute when he did that and she'd squeak. Who knew such a fierce fighter could be ticklish?

If it weren't for cultivating self discipline, the Saiyan would have rushed back home to kiss his wife before lunch. But he supposed this was part of it. He just had to be patient.

Except that life was short, dammit! And she was precious! Patience could wait for other things!

Abandoning his plan, Goku rose in the air, determined to fly back home at mach speed. He had the tree with him or he would have used instant transmission. As much as he wanted to get home quickly, he didn't want to destroy anything in his haste.

Soon, though not soon enough, the alien landed and set the tree down to enter their house. He smelled good things and his stomach grumbled its opinion that he needed to stuff it immediately. But it would have to wait. There was a pretty lady in need of kissing.

Chichi had heard her husband enter, more than accustomed to his habits and presence. She had just told her son to wash his hands for lunch and she turned around face first into a lovely pair of pecs.

“Oh! Goku!” Her words were breathless as her eyes naturally glanced upward. She never got tired of how he looked and a goofy smile graced her lips. “Welcome home, honey! Lunch is ready. Just wash up.”

He smiled shyly back, noting that Chichi had that look on her face she got sometimes when she looked at him. “Hey, Cheech. I already know about lunch.”

“Oh then why-?”

He cut her off with a kiss, noses brushing together. Gohan was used to this behavior between them and scooted past to go wash his hands. Not that either Chichi or Goku noticed, focused entirely on themselves.

When the kiss broke, Chichi was somehow even more breathless than before. “What was that for?”

“Just thinkin about how much I love ya,” was his easy reply. “How good ya are ta me and how ya take care of Gohan. I couldn't ask fer better, Cheech.”

Was that heat on her cheeks? Well, hello there, blush. Long time, no see. Why were you here? Oh Goku being sweet? Again? Just another day in the life of Son Chichi, daughter of the Ox King.

Would she ever get used to it? Probably not.

“You're sweet. Go wash up ok?” Her eyes weren't meeting his, still feeling shy after Goku's earnestness.

He nodded, pulling away with a kiss to his wife's brow. Ah, lunch! How he was looking forward to it!

 


	2. Chichi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching us up to what Chichi's been doing up to this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another "set up" type chapter. It's going to kind of continue like this for a bit. Please have patience!

Chichi was glad she'd eaten lunch already as she had a few things to do. Her father was aging, leaving her with increasing responsibilities as future queen. Part of the reason she was so tough on Gohan was she wanted him to be able to take over in her stead. Running a kingdom was more that just martial arts.

Feeding her boys, she chattered on absently about how Goku needed to take their training easy, how they needed to be back before dark so Gohan could focus on his homework, to please catch some fish while they were out for dinner. Oh and she might be out a bit later than expected so Goku dear would you please scale the fish you catch if that's the case? Thank you dear, she really appreciated it.

“Goin’ to yer dad's again?” Her husband asked around a mouthful of rice.

This earned him a light smack on the head. “Don't talk with your mouth full. It's bad manners.”

“Sorry, Cheech.” He made sure to swallow his food first.

“Thank you,” she kissed his forehead as reward for doing as she admonished. “But yes. We need to double check taxes. There was another fire again. A few houses were caught in it.”

Goku nodded, vaguely aware of what his wife meant. Taxes he didn't know about but it had to do with money and they got things done somehow. “D'ya need me to repair anythin’?”

She shook her head. She hadn't told him yet that she had been the one doing it with the help of her father

When Goku had died, things had changed drastically in a very short period of time. The only reason she'd ever learned martial arts had been to defend her home and her people and then continued as a way to catch Goku's eye. But once she'd gotten pregnant, she had stopped. After all, he was the strongest person on the planet so he was plenty strong to protect their little family seeing as he'd saved the world a couple of times. She didn't like it like he did so she didn't see the point anymore.

Her boys waved goodbye, Goku stealing one last kiss, and she set about cleaning the dishes as quickly as possible so she could leave the house. Her mind wandered again as it was a task that only kept her hands busy.

She'd stopped fighting and things had been OK. Fine. Great even! Goku had dealt with their little kingdom where muscle had been needed that her father couldn't provide. So she'd lulled herself into a false sense of security, convinced that even if something terrible happened, Goku and the others would be able to handle it. They were all strong, but her husband especially so. There wasn't a thing to worry about.

Until she'd had her son kidnapped and become a widow in the span of a few hours. The Z Warriors had scattered and she had no ability to sense qi and find them. Not only that, but she'd had no way of getting to Kame House on her own. But Bulma had kept her informed and finally taken her to Roshi. Bulma was such a dear friend and a strong woman. She hadn't been shocked in the least when Chichi had declared her intentions. Just gave her a warning about the old master she already well knew.

He'd told her Gohan was training with Piccolo and she'd nodded sagely. Not that she trusted the weird demon who'd previously been evil. But it had been a few weeks and he was safe and cared for and his qi burned brightly. So she'd left him there, confident she could continue her son's studies as soon as they were done. Besides, it would be difficult to educate him, keep a kingdom running, and train all at once. She doubted she'd ever sleep. Not to mention, if she was being practical, there wasn't anyone left who could have actually stopped Piccolo.

But she'd be damned if she didn't do it herself.

“Train me,” she'd demanded of him.

“Absolutely not!” The old man hadn't even considered it, no shock to Chichi. Poor Bulma had to build a radar to find her jaw.

Chichi, meanwhile, continued stubbornly. “If you won't do it, tell me how you trained Goku and Krillin and I'll do it myself!”

“Out of the question!”

“Then I'll just ask my dad!”

“He won't tell you if I tell him not to!” Was the counter.

Chichi laughed airily. Bulma was surprised at how fake it sounded and even more so at how it affected Master Roshi. “His grandson is in danger, his son-in-law dead and his daughter wants to retrieve said grandson, Roshi. You think he won't?”

He had to give it to her there. But that stupid king would go too easy on his daughter. On the other hand, Chichi would push herself too hard and probably do some serious damage. It looked like he didn't have much choice and Goku would murder him if he didn't care for Chichi properly. He'd probably send a blast straight from the afterlife.

So he'd relented.

Bulma had given her a phone and strict instructions to call the second the old man got disgusting. She'd nodded and off her friend went to invent something that could kill aliens hopefully. She'd also agreed to all the paperwork while Chichi was training. Honestly, Bulma was too good to her.

Back to the present, Chichi dried her hands on a hand towel and put her boots on to leave. The slamming of the screen door was the last thing she heard before she took of in the sky, headed for her father's castle.

After Bulma had left them, Chichi had begun training. She'd started off with more than Krillin or Goku though they'd been boys and she was an adult. Same turtle shell, same zigzag, same plowing with a punch. Slowly, he'd increased her burdens until well past when he'd relented with the boys.

Not once did she complain.

When the day was done, she even cooked for the two of them. Payment, she'd insisted and Roshi hadn't protested. He hadn't had a woman's cooking since Launch left to God knew where to do God only knew what. There were a lot of leftovers though so she ended up cooking only every so often. It was enough regardless.

Every seventh day was pure meditation. Roshi understood how important rest was for the both of them. This also allowed Chichi to concentrate, her qi growing though she didn't know it at the time. The meditation helped her clear her head, breathe deeply and become one with the life around her.

It was at 6 months she had awaken with a whole new sixth sense. It was sight and feeling combined into one and it was everywhere. Master Roshi was so bright, Chichi could hardly stand to look at him. It didn't go away when she closed her eyes either.

Roshi had been astonished, of course. What had taken others years of intense training, this diminutive housewife had reached in a matter of months. Qi reading was no easy feat and most fighters never attained such a level of understanding. Hell, Goku had needed the sacred water to unlock his hidden potential to do it. And here his wife was, just sensing qi in a fraction of the time.

He'd explained what she was sensing and helped her grow accustomed to it. It was still so new do she couldn't quite sense Gohan or any of the others. But time allowed her this ability and before too long Chichi could sense she was nowhere  _ near _ strong enough to take her son back from Piccolo. Hell, even Yamcha, the weakest of the Z Warriors, could kick her ass in an instant at this level. She really was no match for anybody.

Instead of letting that bother her, Chichi continued her rigorous training under Roshi. They'd long left milk delivery as a method of training behind. Instead, the two sparred and he taught her how to harness qi energy. Before their time was up, he'd even shared the kamehameha wave and evil containment technique. Roshi had taught her everything he knew and then some becoming more of a personal coach than training master there at the very end.

Not that it mattered, to Chichi's complete dismay. She was still weaker than Yamcha. Bulma had commented on her “smoking new bod” but Chichi had been too distracted as she buckled her seatbelts, the two of them headed to collect everyone's battered corpses for healing. Chichi had felt her husband's resurrection, the beatdown those aliens provided he and their son and the general carnage. Yamcha had left a crater and Chichi found herself grateful she hadn't tried fighting the aliens herself.

Somehow, being able to sense what was happening was worse than the not knowing. But she'd kept her friend up to date. Bulma had swallowed hard when Yamcha died but soldiered through it. Chichi was aware of their tumultuous history and while she didn't get why her friend hadn't left the cheating son of a bitch earlier, she understood there was pain there. So she didn't touch it.

Chichi breathed deeply at the memory, wind feeling good on her face as she thought about everything that had led up to their current situation. Her son had gone to another planet, not that she could have stopped him with her power level, and she'd taken back over her responsibilities as Ox Princess.

But she'd kept up her training and while Gohan was away, Tienshinhan had taught her how to fly so she could keep up with everybody if she so chose. Not to mention, since she couldn't drive and relying on Bulma was too much of a burden for her to ask her friend, it was for the best. Besides, she had been taking care of things while she was away and had even flown the ship to Namek. Chichi couldn't ask her for the menial favors of grocery shopping or company. She had to rely on herself sometimes.

So she'd learned to fly, Goku skipped off to a whole 'nother planet then took forever to get back, denying Shenron. Much as she missed him, and as angry as she was at her stupid, beefy husband, Chichi understood his decision.

He wasn't the strongest around anymore so he had to focus on training. She knew how much he wanted to protect her and Gohan, their friends, everybody. Hell, Chichi herself had taken up martial arts once again and  _ learned how to fly _ so she could have a sliver of a chance of alleviating some of that burden.

But, somehow along the way, her own son had surpassed her. Chichi was still weaker than all the other Z Warriors too. The best she could do would be to fly Bulma to safety if ever anything happened.

Not that she wouldn't, of course. Bulma was a wonderful friend and lovely woman. If Chichi hadn't had her heart set on Goku, she would have likely asked the beautiful heiress for her hand on marriage. But she was a married woman with a child and a small country kingdom to run and Bulma was a glamorous inventor with balls and events to attend. Chichi was convinced she would have never caught the other woman's eye, plain as she was. But that was alright because at least they were friends. Son Chichi could live with that.

Realizing how she'd been thinking of her best friend's smile yet again, Chichi shook herself out of it. She had other things to focus on. Like repairing the roofs of houses caught in that fire. She needed to stop feeling guilty about keeping things a secret from her husband and  _ focus _ . He didn't understand how taxes worked or how a kingdom was run and he had some androids to prepare for. She could keep him from worrying if she took care of things herself.

Chichi chuckled remembering the last time he'd tried to repair some houses while distracted and had added to the damage. He was so cute but so clumsy and absent minded sometimes. That had been years ago long before Raditz or Vegeta or Namek. He'd been  _ so excited  _ she was pregnant and couldn't focus on anything else. So they'd determined having him do anything that could cause damage while distracted was out of the question. The memory of his excitement still made her smile fiercely. Her proud alien husband.

Now  _ that _ was a fact she  _ still _ hadn't unpacked and kind of had no intentions of doing so pretty much ever. With her limited knowledge, she'd thought their sexual encounters had been normal but apparently not. But it did explain why she had such a hard time getting pregnant.

"Chichi!" She heard her father's booming voice and glanced down at his gigantic, waving form from his bedroom balcony. "Heya!"

"Hi, daddy!" She alighted delicately in front of him only to be squished into one of his patented Dad Hugs.

"'S good ta see ya, kiddo!" He was all smiles like usual.

Chichi giggled, extracting herself from his arms. "Good to see you too. Just saw ya yesterday."

"Yeah I know," he began walking through his own room to the hall, knowing his daughter would follow. "Jus' I can't seem ta get over ya flyin' like that."

She smiled, nodding. She understood the sentiment all too well. First Goku's nimbus, then flying unaided and Gohan too. She never got tired of seeing her boys in the air. Or being there herself.

She followed her father, turning towards what used to be her childhood bedroom a few doors down. They'd converted it into an office after she'd moved in with Goku. It held filing cabinets practically bursting with paperwork, a bookcase filled with thick tomes depicting kingdom laws and history for consultation purposes, and a simple desk in which to do said paperwork. It was a rather nice set up if she did so so herself. And she  _ did  _ say so herself. 

So, daddy, about those houses…."

~

The Son boys had gotten back earlier than their matriarch. It was a little surprising as Chichi was usually home before they were but it wasn't entirely uncommon either. Neither of them had really been paying too much attention to her qi since Goku had gotten back from outer space, entirely focused on training up for the androids. Had they, they would've realized that she could fly quite some time ago. As things stood, they were both too preoccupied to think about much aside from her general location. As long as she was safe, and not angry, both father and son could rest easy.

"Hey, dad," Gohan said, stepping out of his shoes just inside the door. "I'm gonna go wash up real quick and do my homework, ok?"

"Sure, son," the elder Saiyan nodded, ruffling a mop of soft spikes affectionately. "Imma just scale and gut the fish fer yer mom."

Gohan nodded back, stripping from his stinking clothes on his way to the bathroom and tossing them in the hamper placed neatly inside the doorframe of his room. He was glad that Bulma had eventually added onto his great grandfather's house a little with indoor plumbing and lights so they could at least have a shower. He remembered his mom protesting to more than that so they still had to boil water for baths.

But it had been pretty nice nonetheless. No more going to bed early or relying on candlelight to pee in the middle of the night. Stepping into the small bathroom, Gohan turned the shower knob and waited for the water to warm up before stepping into the hot spray and sliding the door shut behind him.

It was nice to wash the sweat and grime from the day's training and fishing down the drain. Gohan was acutely aware of just how badly he stunk and, once again, found himself unendingly grateful for the miracle that was soap. It was amazing what a bar of animal fat and some choice minerals could do for cleanliness. Or, at the very least, for weird, alien body odor.

_ That _ was a concept that frequently haunted Gohan. He wasn't human. Not entirely at least. Though that did explain the tail, his positively outrageous appetite, and his seemingly never ending pool of rage bubbling at the very back of his head at all times waiting to burst forth at any provocation.

Though it wasn't rage per se. More like an over excitable beast on a very fragile leash. It roared its pleasure when he fought in a way that was uncomfortably satisfying. But, more often than not, it would snap in a fit of anger.

So he tamped it down, did his best to ignore it and continued on with his life. He could always address it later probably. Not that he was interested in addressing it. Ever.

Turning off the water, he grabbed his towel and began drying himself. It was easier to focus on the homework he had. He still hadn't done math but that would be no problem. Math and science were his easiest subjects though Gohan was embarrassed of the ever widening gap between those and his language arts and history skills. He was still brilliant, of course, but it always bothered him how clear the gap was between his best and worst areas.

Humming absently to himself, Gohan found his favorite pjs and set about dressing himself when he heard his father yell from the front of the house. Curious, and completely forgetting a shirt he hurried to the kitchen only to see a sink full of fish, a fillet knife, and the scrap bucket missing. Ah. He'd taken the scales to toss into the compost.

Poking his head out the screen door, he could more clearly hear his parents as he glanced around for the source of the commotion. And then he understood why his father had shouted.

"Holyshit!" He breathed, eyes going wide as he stepped barefoot into the grass, letting the screen door slam behind him with a loud bang.

"Mom, you can fly!?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup! Chichi can fly! I mean, it only makes sense, in my opinion.
> 
> Chichi is so headstrong and tough and I feel like canon marginalizes her and relegates her to the nagging, shrewish wife trope. It was really hard for me to see for a very long time why Goku even loved her, let alone if he even DID love her.
> 
> But then Super came out and I've started to see these characters in a new light. They're deeply flawed in very realistic ways but these flaws tend to be glossed over or played for laughs rather than examined. I know this is a story about fighting aliens but I wanted to explore the psychology of these characters and fix a few issues I had.
> 
> That said, Chichi and Bulma are going to feature HEAVILY in this fic. Both with each other and with other characters. There's a lot missing to play around with, ESPECIALLY since Saiyans are very literally aliens from another world. So I'm going to be really playing up that aspect in ways I personally think are hella hot and also interesting.
> 
> But yeah expect to see more of Chichi for sure. I apologize that these first few chapters are setting up the background I want before really delving into Actual Plot and I thank you guys for sticking with my self indulgent dumpster fire!
> 
> (I'm about 1/3 of the way through chapter 3 but 2 came faster than 1 so we'll see how this pans out. I've been really super sick so who knows!)


	3. Goku and Chichi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Chichi have a much needed conversation. Poor Gohan is just trying to keep his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile. Mostly because I didn't want to write sparring. I think I managed a way around it.

__

Chichi flushed, not making eye contact with either of her boys. She should have said something before now but all she could think was that Gohan shouldn't be swearing. So that's what she focused on as she floated gently back to earth.

"Language," she admonished and her son at least had the good grace to blush and mumble out a "'m sorry, ma," eyes at his feet.

"Ok but," Goku had long since dropped the bucket of fish scales, "Cheech. I-"

She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard then quiver. Several emotions battled across his face. The most notable were surprised joy and self conscious sorrow. Chichi hated herself for making her beloved husband look that way.

"It's ok," she took his hand in hers. "I uh. Tienshinhan taught me."

"When?"

Chichi swallowed thickly, unable to meet the hurt in his eyes. "You were in the hospital and-"

"And I was with Krillin and Bulma on my way to Namek," their son supplied flatly.

All she could do was nod.

Goku found himself realizing a few things. The largest of which was jealousy. "How come I didn't get ta teach ya?"

Chichi blinked, eyes finally meeting her husband's. He was… jealous? That was, in a word, new. "I didn't know you wanted to…?"

"I didn't know ya wanted ta fly."

Gohan, meanwhile, had realized this wasn't really a conversation meant for him. Quietly, he snuck back inside to retrieve a shirt. He could talk to his mom about this later. For now, she'd eat him alive if he neglected his homework.

Chichi and Goku were too engrossed with themselves to really take too much notice. Wife couldn't help but reach for husband and run her hand through his hair, uncaring about the sweaty mess it had become from a day of training.

"'S not it," she smiled gently. "I just wanted ta protect Gohan-"

"So you trained?"

"Yeah."

Goku nodded, swallowing down his emotions to hear his wife out. He had wanted to spar with her for so long but she'd gone and trained with somebody else. Not that he could blame her, considering. So he waited.

She explained how she'd trained with Roshi when he had died so she could protect their son, how she hadn't been able to keep up with anyone, not even Yamcha. Then how, after that mess of a fight with Vegeta and Nappa, she'd desperately wanted to at least keep pace with everyone. She knew she couldn't protect anyone except maybe herself and Bulma but she liked not feeling totally helpless.

She continued, detailing how she hadn't wanted to worry him or Gohan with the androids coming and had just generally kept it all inside. She'd been working to repair village structures every day and attend to the kingdom of Fry Pan Mountain's affairs so Goku would be free to train with their son for this latest incoming threat. It wasn't that she had meant to keep this from him so much as they'd all just been so busy and she didn't want to take up his time worrying and-

Goku interrupted his wife with a gentle kiss, one fishy smelling hand cupping gently at her jaw. It was sweet and earnest, just like him.

"S okay," he murmured against her lips. "Ya don't got nothin' ta worry 'bout from me, Cheech."

The question was probably evident on her face or Goku wouldn't have smoothed the crease between her brows with his thumb.

"I get it," he nuzzled into his wife's hair, breathing deeply as his arms settled around her, keeping her close.

Guess she was going to have to shower before she cooked up dinner. But that was ok.

Goku held his wife close, continuing to speak gently into her hair. "Ya wanted ta protect our family, ta keep up with me. I get it, Cheech. Yer so good ta me. Too good ta me. Ya've got no idea how happy I am ta know ya love me that much, Cheech."

She felt her ears go red and Chichi buried her nose in her husband's sweaty gi. He was just so  _ sweet _ . It was too much sometimes how sweet he was and oh so gentle. He was never embarrassed to tell her how he felt about her. So long as it was just the two of them, of course. He so jealously guarded his affection for her, it made her heart ache.

He really should've been the one to teach her to fly.

But what was done was done and she couldn't take any of that back now. "Sorry ya didn't get ta teach me, hon."

Goku just shrugged in her embrace. "'S ok, Cheech. I know why ya did it. 'S hard not bein' able ta fly yerself and bein' stuck behind all a us. But now ya don't hafta worry.

She nodded, not pushing the issue further. Chichi was deeply aware of just how badly she'd hurt her husband. After all, he'd been nipping at her heels for  _ years _ to spar again. And, in her haste to stop being left in the dust, things had ended up like this. Carefully, she pulled away to look in his dark eyes.

"How about, after dinner," her voice was a little halting and plenty quiet, "what's say you an me we do a little sparrin'?"

His eyes lit up in a way that could put stars to shame. "Would I!?"

Chichi couldn't help but grin back at him. "But wash up a bit ok? I'll get ta fryin' up that fish an' make plenty so when yer done sparrin' I can get a shower while ya eat."

"Anythin' fer my best girl," was his enthusiastic reply, stealing another kiss. Nothing in the world had ever sounded better.

So they turned away, Chichi to get dinner started and Goku to finish taking the fish scales over to the compost heap. Chichi liked to keep an herb garden as it was much cheaper, and, in Goku's opinion,  _ much _ tastier and the mulch really helped keep that going. How Goku loved his resourceful wife.

Once the scales had been dumped, he placed the empty bucket back on its hook by the door. Toeing off his shoes, Goku got right to washing his hands and slicing ingredients to help Chichi's work go faster.

He was better at it now after years of practice. It was something Chichi had helped him with during their early days of marriage. She'd insisted that even if he couldn't cook, he was going to have to pull his weight and help her out at least. Especially considering the amount he ate, it was only fair he chop vegetables at the very least. He still smiled remembering the patient but strict manner in which she'd taught him to handle knives.

First was vegetables then already cleaned meat. Then she'd shown him how to gut and dismember pretty much any animal he would ever handle. If he was ever clumsy, she helped guide his hands to clean up after him. If he ever forgot, she taught him how to do it again. By the time they were done, he could do almost half the cooking by himself and Chichi only had to heat and season the ingredients.

It was a nice thing between them, a routine they had together. The only times they didn't cook together like this were when he was dead or otherwise not around. She'd even shown him how to bread ingredients for frying to leave her hands clean and free to handle the oil and watch the food brown in the pan. Goku never could quite figure out seasonings but that was all right by him. He was more than happy to let Chichi do that part. Baking too. He never could quite remember everything and even with a list of instructions it never came out quite right.

It made him happy that she'd pretended to like everything he'd ever tried to bake but they agreed pretty quickly he should stop. "Besides," she'd said, "I'm just happy ta have ya helpin' me with dinner."

Gohan helped a little bit too sometimes. Mostly stirring things to make sure they didn't burn. He knew how to season things and could chop things if he absolutely had to but Chichi didn't like their son handling knives just yet. It was almost like she wanted to keep him a boy just a little bit longer. Besides, he cleaned one meal of dishes a day, usually breakfast, and kept his room tidy. It was amazing what a responsible son they had.

That was definitely all Chichi.

Everything chopped and in separate bowls by when she liked to add them, Goku turned to the sink to start cleaning what he could. It made for less dishes after dinner and gave him something to do. They had a TV though none of them watched it much, each of them for their own reasons. Goku's was, overwhelmingly, wanting to spend time with his family most especially Chichi.

He stole a glance her way and smiled to himself. The set of her mouth when she hummed always made him want to kiss her. But that usually made her stop humming so he didn't. Instead, he admired her intensely focused eyes as she managed all four stove burners at once.

She was so pretty and smart and strong. She could focus on a lot of things at once and she always helped him see realistically when all he ever did was see the brightest side of things. Goku had no idea how he'd ever made her fall in love with him but he did somehow. He was pretty sure it was some kind of trick but he was glad she'd never caught on and kept loving him. She was a real force of nature and his stomach always felt squirmy just looking at her.

Goku turned back to the task at hand, placing the dishes he just washed on the drying rack. They couldn't use the dishwasher for a little longer because of Gohan's shower. He'd have to remember to keep it to sanitize so he and Chichi could shower after their sparring. It was just that they used a lot of water between dishes and showers. Guess that just came with having Saiyan appetites.

"Gohan!" Chichi called to their son as Goku dried his hands, looking over at her. It looked like round one was ready!

"Yes, mom?" He peeked out from his doorway.

"You wash up?"

"Yep!" He bounded eagerly to the table, awaiting orders.

Chichi placed a couple of large, piping hot dishes piled high with fried fish and stir fried vegetables in her husband's hands. "Here, honey take these to the table. Gohan, you grab bowls for you an' yer dad."

It was a bit of a ballet but somehow everyone managed. They knew the routine by how. Chichi would keep cooking until there was no more left to cook, serve herself while her boys were finishing up, Gohan would pack up leftovers before returning to his room to finish his homework, and Goku would do the dishes while Chichi rested. They'd have showers while Gohan wound down his night reading. When he was younger, he would play quietly with his toys before his father would read him a bedtime story and join his mother in the other room. Gohan never knew what they did after he went to bed though he'd heard something about sparring earlier. Not that he was about to explore that. Ever.

Seriously, Gohan would rather gauge his eyes out with a rusty spoon than think about whatever euphemism "sparring" was.

Dinner commenced as usual, Gohan thanking his parents for their hard work and kissing his mother as he put his dishes in the sink and moved to box up what he knew would be leftovers as Chichi toom her seat at the table. Once done, he leaned in for Goku to kiss his son's forehead before returning to his room. He knew as soon as his homework was done to turn off his light and go to sleep.

Chichi found herself smiling at their son's back. He had yet to grow into that phase all children did where parental affection was embarrassing and gross. She wasn't looking forward to the day he stopped accepting hugs and kisses from them. She knew it had to happen eventually but she was loathe to give up such sweetness. He was her one and only son after all.

Goku finished dinner first, stretching contentedly and kissing his wife. Chichi found herself warming to his touch as usual, letting him take her dishes when she was through herself. She let him handle them so she could get a short respite in. She never had been great with fighting after a meal and was glad for the chance to digest and avoid nausea.

But it was the slamming of the screen door that brought an end to the sleepy pace of her gentle evening.

The summer night air was cool against her skin and the sun was just dipping below the horizon to give rise to twilight. Lightning bugs lazed about, winking at each other in the growing dark.

She shivered.

He grinned.

They were on each other like a crash, faster than most eyes could see. There was an unspoken question and response between the two of them. No energy blasts. No Super Saiyan. Just the connection of flesh.

When there was a connection to be had.

Goku's smile was almost manic. He couldn't get a hit in edgewise but here Chichi was managing to smack him with every swing of her slender arm.

Gods, she was moving poetry.

Not that Goku knew anything about poetry. But if he had, his wife would've been the embodiment there of. Her movements were the definition of grace, her skin paler than moonlight.

And she was kicking his sorry alien ass.

Smiling, she landed a spinning kick to his side, avoiding his attempts to grab. "Distracted?"

"No…." He hedged. He was  _ absolutely _ distracted.

They danced together like this and slowly Goku's mind focused. It took far longer than Chichi had expected but finally he managed a few love taps. She knew he couldn't go all out so he poked or kissed whereas there wasn't a damn thing she could do to hurt her husband so it was ok if she didn't hold back as much as he did.

Finally, after almost half an hour of intricate weaving, he caught her.

His arms wrapped around her smaller frame, planting a kiss on her surprised mouth. Delight replaced surprise and her mouth softened, tongue poking at his bottom lip. Oh ho! So this was the game then!

Chichi felt his mouth turn up in a feral grin as he allowed her entrance. It seemed their sparring had been replaced with a different conversation. Not that either of then were complaining.

She was pretty sure all parties involved were  _ far  _ from complaining.

It was like this sometimes. The adrenaline got the better of them and their hands tore at gi and cheongsam. It was part of what had made Chichi stop in the first place. She'd wanted to protect her pregnancy at the time. But it had been so long since then.

_ Fuck it _ , she thought as she divested Goku of his top, digging her fingertips into muscle harder than rock. Gods he was a sculpted  _ vision _ and all hers. All hers.

At some point, they'd sunk to the grass and Chichi freed her bun into a less painful to lie on ponytail while Goku busied himself with removing as much of her clothing as absolutely possible, keeping his hungry mouth exploring her neck in that way of his. She knew she was making noises but they were far enough away from the house and besides there were walls between them and their son. There was no way he could hear them.

(Never mind that Gohan had turned on music the second he'd gotten to his room because he wasn't stupid. He was busy ignoring the fact that his parents' qi was being weird.)

Chichi and Goku clung to each other. This was less sex and more physical conversation. Her kisses were apology, his hands forgiveness. Her panting said  _ It should have been you _ . His gentle nips at her skin replied  _ Yes. I love you anyway. _ The nails biting into his back were another  _ I'm so sorry  _ to which he replied, gripping her tight  _ And I love you anyway. _

Chichi squirmed around his fingers as they continued their merciless plunge, arms iron tight around her husband's shoulders. His other arm cradled her close, not letting her squirming lead her away from him. His teeth were at her neck, leaving bruises in their wake. She found herself once again grateful for all her cheongsams hid from others. There was no telling what her father would have to say seeing hickies across his daughter's skin.

Goku shivered when his wife cried out, nails digging further into his skin. The pain felt so good and he crooked his fingers to get Chichi to twitch back up his hand. She'd been ready awhile ago but he could never get enough of her reactions. Especially when every little movement professed her love so sweetly.

Both of them agreed they were finished too soon. It had been a little while since they'd had sex. So Chichi agreed to shower while Goku ate and would meet him in their bedroom after his shower. They had thick enough bedroom walls and Chichi was pretty confident in her ability to keep her noises quiet. Gohan would be asleep by the time they went at it again anyway and her Saiyan boys were notoriously heavy sleepers regardless.

So they shrugged their clothes back on and twined their fingers together. The sun had long set and the fireflies were in full force, bright as the stars that had started blinking their eyes awake. It wasn't too terribly late and besides. With another romp, they'd both sleep well enough.

Chichi stole a kiss after toeing off her shoes and sashaying away to the shower. To which Goku decided a shared shower was more important than a snack.

It would still be there later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit at the end was pretty much what it's like trying to have sex when you have kid(s). You do your best not to scar them and they do their best to be willfully ignorant. Plus, sometimes sex is less physical titillation and more silent conversation. So that's what I went for.
> 
> Next chapter focuses on the Briefs residence so there will be actual out and out smut. I'd apologize except I'm not sorry and this is my personal garbage written specifically to make me happy. If others enjoy it too then yay.
> 
> Speaking of! Thank you all for all the lovely comments! I appreciate every single one of them and I'm glad I'm not the only one who's having fun here!


	4. Briefs Residence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, at the Briefs residence.... Time for that infamous connection!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I read a LOVELY fic ages ago called Lost in Translation I fell in love with and it became part of my headcanon for how things went for Veggie and Bulma. But I'm adding my own twist to settle it neatly into my interpretation that Saiyans are a polyamorous species. Here is a link to the fic I am *absolutely* butchering (sorry kaotic321) https://archiveofourown.org/works/2189706

Vegeta had blown up the gravity room for God only knew what number time this was and Bulma was  _ not  _ having it. He was such a little bitch about things. Prince of all Saiyans this and Prince of all Saiyans  _ that _ Woman fix my gravity chamber so I can train and defeat the androids blah blah blah Kakarot something something legendary super Saiyan yadda yadda low blooded whelp. She was about half a second away from cold clocking the rotten bastard in the face. Maybe it would teach him some  _ goddamn MANNERS! _

But she had other things to deal with and feeding a bitchy little midget a knuckle sandwich would have to wait. Her dumbass ex was tangled in her hair again and she desperately wanted him to get the fuck lost and let her work for at least a solid twenty fucking four goddamn hours.

Even though she'd broken up with Yamcha  _ ages _ ago now, well before The Namek Fiasco. Rotten bastard was still coming around and not taking "we're not together" as an answer like some kind of hungry dog she'd fed once. Honestly, she'd caught him bed with a baseball groupie. How were they supposed to work through that? If there was one thing Bulma fucking Briefs smartest woman on planet earth never put up with it was cheating. So she'd called it quits the day the whole Raditz thing had gone down and never looked back.

"Earth woman!" Vegeta was demanding over the commlink, probably looking pissed as usual on the screen she couldn't see. "It's still not fixed!"

"Oh buzz off," she snapped back grumpily, reaching for a wrench as she looked up at oily metal.

"I will not 'buzz off!' Do you not realize the fate of the world-"

"Yeah yeah," she muted the volume from the watch in her wrist before turning back to the car above her. Tinkering was her way to calm down from all the bullshit going on lately. "I'll fix it when I fix it, shorty."

She could practically hear his bitching from where she was underneath her car and she was across the damn compound. That was when Yamcha decided to speak up again.

"You know, I've said this before but I think it's worth repeating. I'm not really comfortable with you having him here, Bul-"

"Go away, Yamcha," she snapped back.

She could hear his huffing from under the car. "Come on, I'm only looking out for my gir-"

"Not your girlfriend. I broke up with you forever ago." She was about half a second from throwing the wrench in her hand and killing the former bandit a second time. He'd deserve it for coming by every. Single. Day.

"Aw, c'mon, babe. Don't be like that." She could hear how he crossed his arms in that way of his, defensive, as if protecting his squishest parts.

"Don't call me babe."

Shuffling footsteps. "I'll call you whatever I want-"

She pushed herself out from under the car to glare at him from where she lay on her metal creeper. "Yamcha, fuck off. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit. We're not together and haven't been for a long time."

"Oh yeah?" Oh fuck. He was smirking at her like he'd won something. He was about to get fucking  _ insufferable. _ "Then how come you haven't gone out with any other guys?"

The former bandit uncrossed his arms smugly setting his hands on his waist. He didn't even have a point. They were busy worrying about  _ the actual destruction of the planet _ and Yamcha thought she was just what? Gonna go on dates? And considering her busy schedule inventing things and spending time with her friends? Shit, she hadn't been one for dating before Yamcha even if she'd desperately wanted romantic company. Why should she change that just because she wasn't into him?

So she lied.

"I'm with Vegeta." It came easily, naturally. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it plenty. He was more bitchy lip than actual threat anyway.

The lie had some effect on her stupid ex at least, his eyes bugging out of his skull. "You what!?"

"You heard me," she replied, shoulders set and sneer defiant. "Why do you think he's living with me?"

Yamcha started in on a tirade.

One that a particular short, pissy Saiyan could hear. Well now he knew where the woman was. He could gain her father's whereabouts from her so he could get his machine fixed. God though he hated her beta male always sniffing around and smelling of pheromones. His voice was grating and he couldn't even keep his atrocious scent marking where it was polite. The only parts of the compound that didn't reek of him were the gravity room and Vegeta's room. It was goddamn disgusting.

Stalking towards the argument, he contemplated to himself about maybe he'd ask the woman's father about some training bots. Anything to surpass Kakarot though the thought of being told he was to lose to a couple of toasters with legs really pissed Vegeta off. He was better than that. That punk bitch kid from the future with his stupid hair didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Vegeta was going to reach super Saiyan and make those stupid androids rust their pants before selling what was left for scrap.

"Earth woman," he bellowed, cutting off the beta male from ranting about evil aliens or whatever the fuck he was on about today. "Where's your father? I'll tell him to fix the room myself."

"Not a chance " Bulma snapped back from her prone position on that odd contraption she used to slide under the larger machined she worked on. He thought it was called a creepy. "I'm the one who repaired it to hold up better. He has no idea how I wired the backup generator in case you blew the console again. I told you I'll get to it when I get to it."

"Is this jackass bothering you?" His arms were crossed, clearly crankier than usual. Probably eager to get to beating himself half to death again.

"Ex _ cuse _ me!?" Yamcha squawked.

"Because I can get rid of him."

Bulma sighed, getting up to retrieve something from her toolbox nearby that sat neatly on some kind of metal thing Vegeta assumed was a desk. Not finding what she was looking for she opened a drawer, squatting as she dug around. "Yes he is. But that's not really your business. I'm working on my car. I'll get to it when I'm done. Or," she tossed the grumpy alien something that looked like a small red light bulb, "you can screw that into the console for me."

"And that'll fix it?"

"It'll at least get it running for about an hour. Long enough to let me work on this first. Granted you don't throw any energy blasts around. Do that, and it'll take a whole week to get that gravity room back up. You'll have to stick to push ups and other workout shit." She stood back up to sit on the wheeled creepy thing that let her under the car.

He nodded, turning away. He could most certainly focus on push ups for the time being. It was an acceptable tradeoff to get his room working again. Yamcha had been observing all this and highly doubted these two were a couple. His arms had folded again when Vegeta had entered the room, defensive again. He raised an eyebrow to which Bulma rolled her eyes, pretty sure that if she kept that up they would leave her skull entirely.

"I don't know about your planet or the customs from outer space, Vegeta. But here on earth we have a neat little phrase we like to use. It's 'thank you.' You should definitely try it out." Her arms were crossed now to keep her itchy fingers from actually throwing something at tall, dark and stupid (Yamcha) in the corner of her garage.

"You do good work," was his retort before he turned his back fully to her.

The Almighty Prince Of All Jackasses was focused once again on his training, tuning their words out. As if he would ever thank her. Bulma found herself gritting her teeth. Her dentist was going to kill her with the amount of grinding she was doing lately.

"You know," Yamcha pointed out. "A real boyfriend would have kissed you."

"All I have to do is ask," she rolled her eyes, hating that he was picking at her bluff like this and just wishing he would go away already. Train with Tienshinhan or whatever it was he did on his off season.

"So ask." His smile was fucking obnoxious.

"Vegeta!" She called out, knowing he wasn't too far away and could definitely hear her with his super alien hearing. "Kiss me."

_ That _ had gotten his attention. Kiss? Her?

He was frozen about ten steps from the door, heart in his ears and mind racing. There was no way the woman knew. Saiyan women were one in ten and stronger than the men. They initiated courting and were the heads of large family groups. The men fought to be chosen by the strongest women and to be the top chosen mate. Saiyans were entirely matriarchal and had Tarble been born a girl instead of Vegeta's younger brother, he would have gone on to rule Vegetasei rather than Vegeta. This matriarchal setup dictated that  _ women _ always initiated mating.

How could she know? Women were built to protect their family groupings, giving birth and leaving their children with the fathers. That was before Freiza had implemented the pods to encourage more breeding and less family groupings. More and more, there had been couples. Not that men hadn't coupled within their family groupings before that. Just the polyamorous ways had disintegrated outside every one of them sleeping with as many individuals of other species as they'd come into contact in a pale mockery of the older ways of which Vegeta himself witnessed the slow decline. Warriors had had couplings that mimicked the older ways as closely as they could though that had almost entirely died out with the death of his entire race. He had witnessed it with his mother's own brood of males.

And here this little bitch was just. Demanding? He kiss her? There was just no way. Was there? Had Kakarot told her somehow? It had been mentioned in passing the two had known each other for a very long time. Maybe he'd remembered part of his culture despite the head trauma?

There'd been plenty of interest over the years from plenty of women of course. He was Vegeta! A premium specimen of warrior muscle and beautiful battle scars adorning his skin. All of them far more beautiful than this spindly twig with over large breasts and poofy hair. She didn't even have a single scar across her unnaturally perfect skin. Frankly, she was absolutely hideous. He'd turned all the females he crossed down politely except for the occasional casual encounter. He'd get to it later after he'd defeated Freiza.

But he never had, had he? And now he was stuck here on this rock. He hadn't had sex since gods only knew when and no one had expressed interest in him since before he'd come to earth. His race had been on his mind and and

He had to admit it. Kakarot had everything. He was a dirty low blood but he had a woman all to himself and a son to boot! On top of having reached the legend! He couldn't be beat by that filth!

"Vegeta?" The grossly perfect woman called and he turned back.

Yamcha was about to gloat when the prince stepped back in. There was a dangerous glint to his eyes that Yamcha was pretty damn sure he didn't like. But the shorter man ignored him, slithering up to Bulma like for all the world she was his prey.

"Do you know what you said?" His voice was low, even. But entirely dangerous. Like calm waters that hid a riptide beneath the surface and just as dark.

"Naturally," she stuck her chin out defiantly, arms crossed.

His eyes never left hers, burning embers of some emotion Bulma couldn't quite place. "Say it again."

She didn't hesitate, breathless. "Kiss me."

His royal pain in the ass lips met hers, warm and soft and wow oh wow. He was so gentle and almost sweet, one gloved hand cupping her jaw like she was made of porcelain. Yamcha was silent for once and neither noticed him slump against the wall. Defeated.

He finally had to admit she wasn't his anymore.

Bulma felt Vegeta's soft tongue and didn't resist letting him inside to explore. Her heart was going a mile a minute, her stomach in knots. Every part of him that touched her felt like static electricity and the tips of her fingers tingled. It was shock mostly. But his tongue was polite, pliant and he tasted sweet which was a surprise. Kisses usually just tasted like mouth.

But he stayed there, capturing her over and over again just a touch more demanding with each kiss. He waited for the slap, the bite, the kick to start their tussle so he could best her and mark his place as first mate. But it never came. Did this mean he was left as second? How vile. But it wasn't as if he could initiate such a step himself. To do so would be an egregious breach of etiquette.

She pulled away, panting and flushed and warm all over. She noticed Yamcha was slumped, looking at his feet.

"Yamcha?"

This snapped him to. No attack. But she'd mentioned the other male's name. She didn't move to establish dominance but wanted her men to fight it out amongst themselves.

How delicious. She wasn't at  _ all  _ like he'd thought.

Vegeta stood to full height, a qi blast forming in his hand and a single command on his lips. "Run."

Yamcha didn't have to be told twice, absolutely hoofing it out of the place. Good. He didn't want to have to kill his mate's mate though it was disappointing he didn't get the chance to rid the universe of his annoying existence. Vegeta let the energy go and it flowed back within him easily enough.

Of course Vegeta would be alpha mate. If the woman so chose to take more men, Yamcha would be left in the dust as the last or omega mate. But for now he was beta mate. Vegeta could be satisfied with that.

He turned back to the woman, revelling in the competitive violence he hadn't previously realized she harbored. Then again, with her thin, unscarred limbs, there was no way she could have challenged him properly. She didn't have the build. Her lack of scars proved that well enough. Naturally, she would have relied on her mates working their own hierarchy for themselves. She most certainly had the mind of a Saiyan, ruthlessly pitting her mates against each other.

That or she was dangerously, deliciously intelligent. Certainly she had mechanical smarts having worked on the gravity room but her intelligence hadn't ended there at all. Vegeta could now see what made her so desirable on this planet. Or any other, really. Yes. She would bear desirable offspring with his brawn and her brain.

Beautiful.

That was if the rest of the courtship went well.

He waited for the command, the response to setting himself above the rest. But her demand never came and her hands remained at her sides on the strange flat creepy rather than pulling him closer. He had gone from standing to kneeling to standing again. Did she wish for him to kneel? Was the delay an earth thing? What in all the hells did she want from him!?

Bulma, of course, was having a hard time coming back from the clouds. She'd been kissed within an inch of her life and Vegeta had? Chased off? Her ex? For some reason? What the actual  _ fuck _ was going on here!? What did he want from her?

They stared at each other, Bulma panting like she'd just completed a marathon. Her eyes were glazed and she was more looking at Vegeta's general direction rather than staring. He had absolutely kissed her within an inch of her life, more than arguably the best she'd ever had. And he was just standing there, frozen. As if he was waiting for something. Well she needed to catch her breath first. Maybe find her brain. Something.

She wasn't sure what the hell that had been exactly but she knew she liked it and this taught coil of a man had burned hotter through her blood than Yamcha ever had. It had been entirely too long since she'd had sex.

Oh what the hell.

Cautiously so as not to startle the actual alien being (from outer space no less!) before her, Bulma stood slowly and approached. He was beyond tense. Holding back? Odd. He hadn't been one to hold back before. Was he waiting on her?

That would certainly be a change of pace and Bulma blinked in surprise at the thought. A gentleman? She had to know.

"You're waiting-"

"Yes."

"For me?"

"Of course."

She smiled wickedly, almost evilly, like some kind of haughty  _ Queen _ , and Vegeta could feel his resolve slowly snapping as she tested him. He wanted so desperately to be bitten,  _ claimed _ , and perhaps to bite back. If she so allowed it. Which was rare but he  _ was  _ the prince and she just might. He had no way of knowing.

So he stood, arms steel rods against his sides as the female appraised him.

Just as he thought his kiss might have possibly been subpar, she closed the distance. He could feel the softness of her chest against his and he could feel that the string holding his resolve was but a gossamer thread. He wanted to grab, to claim, to  _ bite _ . But he held his arms at his sides, neck cording with effort.

Bulma, meanwhile, had already given it all the thought she was going to. It had been too long and Yamcha had been hounding her. Vegeta was very pretty in that rugged sort of way and looked pretty human. Well, there was no way an alien and a human couldn't have some fun. Goku and Chichi sure managed it and Chichi had never complained of anything "out of the ordinary" other than the fact that Goku was insatiable.

The scientist in her desperately wanted to see just  _ how _ insatiable a Saiyan could be.

"Sure," she purred, mouth inches from Vegeta's ear. "I accept."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok if you haven't left to read kaotic321's SUPERIOR fic why are you still here!? Go go go go go! Read it! Leave all the kudos and compliments! They really deserve it!
> 
> Once again, though, sorry for the total butchering of the source material. (I know part of the issue is I don't have a beta and publish these chapters hot off my Google doc.) I ascribe to Bulma and Yamcha being through before the 3 year gap so some things didn't fit with what I wanted to write. I didn't want to out and out copy either because that is 100% not cool. Plagiarism is not tolerated in this house. Ever.
> 
> Anyway, I'll be following (roughly) Lost In Translation for what happens between Bulma and Vegeta so there won't be just a whole lot featuring them at first. Mostly because I don't want to just retread already existing ground and step on another writer's toes. I mean if it's requested I focus more on them anyway, I probably will. No promises though.
> 
> That said, I hope you all enjoy the new chapter! I had to research what those wheel thingies are called (creepers) and thought it would be interesting if Vegeta had never encountered one and kept getting its name wrong. I dunno maybe nobody else enjoyed that little detail but me...?
> 
> Anyway just leave a comment if you want me to keep writing/write more than I'd planned on Vegebul during the gap. It's definitely something I could go either way on just I'm erring on the side of not wanting to hog all the attention kaotic321 deserves for the OG idea and the super flawless execution of said idea.
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on tumblr by the way. My art blog is smjaygal and my main is vann-haal. I'm always down to talk to fellow dbz fans!


	5. Vegeta and Bulma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason this is rated explicit :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot off the Google doc once again I bring you only the finest first draft garbage. Please enjoy :)

He pounced.

Bulma was gasping, surprised at the nose at her neck, how strong his arms were around her waist, the way his fingers dug into her back. Her arms slung themselves across his shoulders, instinctively pressing the angry prince to her. His mouth found that spot that made her shiver and

"Ow! What the fuck!?"

He'd sunk his teeth in! The bastard! Before Bulma could protest further, his tongue snaked out, soothing the spot he'd cut into. What the fuck!?

She stilled, trying to figure out what was going on. The bite, once painfully sharp and mind searingly intense, was a dull throb within moments of meeting Mr. Canky Prince's wet tongue. Which was weird because Bulma had hurt herself plenty and nothing that was  _ that _ painful should have eased up so quickly. She was pretty damn sure he'd broken the skin in a very big way. There should've been the warmth of blood pooling at her skin. But his spit? Had? Healed it?

That was absolutely fucking bizarre.

She would have to figure it out later because he was busy kissing his way up to her ear and she was absolutely melting in Vegeta's arms. It wasn't fair what that mouth was doing to her. He, meanwhile, made a mental note on Bulma's easy acceptance of the bite. Kakarot must have told her about Saiyan mating rituals after all or, at the very least, the healing nature of their spit. It was good to keep his brain updated on everything his new mate knew. Less to explain later.

"Mark me," he purred when he got to her ear and Bulma blinked slowly, shaking herself from a very sexy dream.

"Excuse me?"

Short and cranky bared his neck. The curve from his stretch was almost sinful in its artistry. Very,  _ very _ close. But not quite. "Mark me. And I'm yours."

Uh. Ok then? She figured Vegeta meant for her to bite him like he had her. Probably something to do with alien sex rituals or whatever. She'd have to ask about it later when her brain wasn't overwhelmed so much. If she was a computer, her CPU would have been so far past overclocked and steam would have been whistling out her ears.

Instead, Bulma crushed herself against the alien in her arms, unsure how to proceed. She didn't think she should just go for it but he had? It seemed appropriate. So she bit.

He fucking  _ moaned. _

She found she liked that sound so she sunk her teeth in as far as she could, just barely breaking the skin. It had him fucking  _ whimpering _ , brought almost to kneeling just from her teeth.

Fuck her that was so fucking  _ hot _ .

Vegeta, meanwhile, was learning very quickly human spit did  _ not _ soothe the way Saiyan spit did and he was in a surprising amount of pain. It turned out the woman could really bite. Not that he minded. It was causing a very distinct reaction from his groin. Saiyan mating was notoriously violent and the way she was just crushing his neck, inches from his very vulnerable larynx.

This woman could very easily kill him.

And gods above was it  _ hot _ .

Bulma was doing her best to soothe with her mouth but he didn't seem quite as into that. He seemed to like her biting? Well ok. Not that she was complaining because the noises this hot piece of outer space ass was making were absolutely inhuman. And so fucking hot.

She finally knew what it was Chichi meant when she'd mentioned Goku's noises all those years before. She remembered reassuring her then-virginal friend that those were normal, expected even. Bulma would have to call her up later and explain that nono. Those were not normal noises. And to probably watch some porn for comparison. Way later though because she was busy chomping everywhere she could fit her mouth.

Vegeta, meanwhile, was wanting for a bed. He had no problem taking his new mate right there and then but he knew she would have quite a few things to say. Carefully edging his neck away from her mouth, he panted hotly into her ear.

"Yours? Or mine."

"Mine."

Then the world went sideways and Bulma found herself in a certain alien's arms. Flying. To her room. Because of  _ course _ he knew where it was. She'd remembered how she'd told him to avoid it when he first arrived because she liked to sleep late. Right.

Didn't stop her from blinking rapidly to get her overheated brain to kickstart itself. Not that it helped really. She just ended up looking pretty stupid probably.

Bulma DID manage to cling to thick, alien neck as he alighted on her balcony, careful not to break her glass door as he slid it open. He was surprisingly gentle even as he closed it, careful to close the curtains just how she liked. It was oddly... what was the word…? Thoughtful?

Just as gently as he'd handled the door, Vegeta sat his new mate on her bed. Which he was unsurprised to learn was the gentlest bed he'd ever felt in his life. No wonder the earth woman liked to sleep so late. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly began to remove his workout gear.

That's when Bulma remembered the gigantic fucking idiot had been working out and he certainly smelled like it. Sweat mostly and it made her gag with its strength. How could he be ok with that!?

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, not pausing when he got to his shorts.

"God you fucking smell," she complained, eyes watering.

"I smell?" And oh wow. That was a penis. A very human looking penis. That she very much wanted inside her.

Bulma forced herself to look upward and ignore the stupid smirk on his face. "It's gross.

"I smell of battle."

"It's fucking nasty."

Vegeta grit his teeth, holding his tongue. She was the woman and her word was his law now. Didn't mean he couldn't try to suss out whatever her issue was. "You smell of sweat as well."

"Your point?" God she wanted that inside her and it was killing her not to let it. But she was also pretty sure she was going to end up dry heaving into her bedside trash can if he came any closer.

"Does it not bother you? My smell seems to so I do not understand why your own is not also an issue?" He could tell from her smell and general body language that she liked his form. She wanted him. Why the delay?

She paused, lip between her teeth. It looked like she was seriously wrestling with the question. Vegeta was growing impatient, that smell teasing him with its closeness.

"We can just cleanse together."

Now  _ that _ was an idea. "You mean shower?"

"The room with the water and-"

"Yes." She was on her feet, quickly ridding herself of her clothes, proximity to very sweaty alien be damned.

Vegeta found it hard not to stare at her bizarrely perfect skin and enticingly curvy form. She had wide hips which would be perfect for breeding. He found himself thinking of how round she would be with his seed. She would be impressively large indeed and quite lovely when the time came. What were those lighter marks? Like stripes?

"C'mon," she strode towards her shower with confidence, smug to see that Vegeta was eyeing her with distinct lust in his eyes.

He followed, eyeing her form carefully. The stripes were focused around her hips and butt, some by her inner thighs and breasts. They were lighter than the other skin but not by an extreme margin so he'd failed to notice them. Battle scars? But why around these areas? Shouldn't they be distributed differently?

He noticed there were some beneath her arms when she stretched to turn the water on. A few in other places as well. Did humans naturally have stripes? Did they vary between humans? Were some dark stripes? How come he had never seen them on other humans? They weren't like any stripes from any other races he recognized.

"You gonna get in?" A blue eyebrow was raised, matching the blue of her hair and the blue that was neatly groomed around her pelvic region.

He hadn't even realized how he'd been staring. Quickly, he joined the earth woman, letting the curtain swing close behind him, dimming the light in the immediate area around them. The water receptacle was large enough for two people with room to spare and had a large metal spray nozzle at each end but Vegea didn't care. He was fascinated with the woman's stripes.

Gently, he ran a calloused finger over a few. It felt different from the surrounding skin though barely. The difference was so subtle as to be easy to overlook but there was a distinct textural difference. An eyebrow was still raised as she reached for the bar of cleansing animal fat that smelled vaguely of the red earth fruit she called strawberries. It was too delicate for someone like him but he'd deal with that later. He had to know of her stripes.

"What are these?"

"My skin?" She was lathering up some kind of cloth to scrub at his chest.

"No. These stripes." He ran a thumb across a particularly large one along her hip.

Stripes? She looked down and saw him caressing some stretch marks dangerously close to her pubic hair. "You mean my stretch marks?"

"What are those?"

"Everyone has them." Bulma was working at his arms now, the cloth softer than her smooth flesh against him. "When you grow too quickly, your skin can't quite accommodate it all and it has to stretch really far. When that happens, you get stretch marks."

"Fascinating," the word was breathed like a prayer.

"You have them too."

It was his turn to look confused. Bulma kept the fact that he seemed childlike and vulnerable to herself. She'd likely never get this opportunity again and he fascinated her endlessly. Not just being an alien but being the same kind of alien as her longest friend. Plus he was grumpy and violent but in a cactus sort of way. Like he was hiding something soft and vulnerable. And here she was seeing it with her own eyes, confirming it. There was an intelligence and curiosity that sparkled there, unguarded for once.

She was in no way about to let something so fascinating loose anytime soon. So she chose her words carefully so as not to spook him. "Did you ever grow very quickly over a short period of time."

"Yes?"

"Then you have them too. Look here," the human woman twisted his left arm and held the wrist up in a way that was unnatural but not uncomfortable, revealing a lightning pattern in blue along his skin.

"Stripes," he said in wonder.

Bulma just nodded, taking the opportunity to feel Vegeta out. His body was rock hard, scars decorating his skin the way flowers might adorn a wallpaper. It was incredibly sexy, the reminder of just how dangerous this man in her hands was.  _ A murderer _ a voice needled quietly. Not that she was going to unpack  _ that _ just yet. Chichi would have her head the moment she found out about all of this. Definitely not a conversation she was looking forward to.

God she was so screwed.

Vegeta, meanwhile, found he would have to look in one of the many squares of glass that reflected his appearance later to get a better look at the marks he apparently had adorning his body. He couldn't remember their human name but he hadn't had such luxury since his time as a very small child at the palace. He'd had no reason to check his appearance since landing on earth but he did now. He would have to inspect himself to see his pretty blue stripes. Probably he'd even be able to see all his battle scars.

Couching that for later, the woman had just gotten her hands on his groin and he was resisting falling to his knees in supplication. She was definitely  _ not _ cleaning and taking the opportunity to tease him mercilessly.

He growled.

A wicked grin had made its home on her face.

Vegeta couldn't have pinpointed the exact series of events after that. All he was sure of was the water had been turned off and his mate was dazedly catching her breath, sprawled on an enormous towel across the bedspread. He himself was somewhat dryer as his hair wasn't doing its usual dripping down his shoulders. He could only surmise he had turned off the shower, tousled his hair dry, wrapped the earth human in a towel and flung her on the bed.

Whatever the case, he found he did not care.

Before Bulma could protest, he was spreading her legs, teasing a hand between them. His forehead was resting on the crook of her neck opposite where he'd bitten earlier. Carefully, he slipped a finger inside, thumb teasing expertly at her clit. His breath ghosted across her wet skin sensually, right ear tingling where the warm air hit.

She almost screamed.

The gentle, methodical way he had entered her had her a mess on her fuzzy pink towel. His finger was thicker than she'd realized and the stretch was maddening. It was thicker than the bullet she used sometimes and stroking her like he'd trained his fingers to please her specifically. Her thighs were a shaking mess and she found herself clutching at the bed, whimpering, chest heaving. The sparking electricity between her legs kept her brain screaming with intense pleasure, urging her to beg for more.

Then he bit her.

It wasn't anywhere near as harsh as he had been earlier and Bulma found herself moaning embarrassingly loud, losing her internal battle of self control. She found herself grateful that not only was her room soundproofed long ago (during that one period of her youth where she thought taking up the trumpet was worthwhile) but her parents were also out for the day. No amount of soundproofing could muffle the sounds she was making.

This, of course, only encouraged the Saiyan prince who snuck in a second finger. She arched, hands moving from the sheets to his back to urge him deeper. Vegeta, of course, complied wordlessly. It had been awhile but this was something impossible to forget. And he was deeply experienced in pleasing women.

When he spread his fingers, he was sure she was either going to shout down the walls or bite into his shoulder. Either would have been fine with him. Her noises were surprisingly arousing and she was such a pliant thing, easily responding to his hand. He would have to scold the beta male later. Teach him how to please their woman better if she was responding so eagerly to just this.

In no time, he had his new mate grinding into his hand, riding his fingers. She was dripping something sticky and viscous. The smell was positively mouth watering. He made a mental note about getting on his knees for her at some point. It was only fitting a male do such for his female even if he was the prince. Though, if he were honest, he would not have done that for any female that smelled any less enticing than this Bulma did. She was such a rare exception for him to bend his pride, and his knee, in such a manner.

As it stood, he was too impatient to properly join their bodies and he slid his fingers out. He moved her so she was on her back, allowing him to more easily enter her. Carefully, he placed a hand on either side of her head for stability.

The pouting glare she gave him even as she was panting almost undid him before be could even plant his hands. The way her breasts were heaving, the beautiful stripes adorning her form, her quivering thighs. The sight was almost too much. Yet the prince held himself back, carefully sliding his throbbing cock deep within the woman's eager cunt.

_ His _ woman. His  _ mate. _

She was throbbing around him and he made a low noise at the back of his throat partway between a growl and a grunt, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She was so impossibly tight and warm and wet and dear gods it had been too long and he was throbbing. He couldn't finish so quickly and have her disappointed in him so he reined himself in quickly concentrating.

Carefully, he angled his hips and pulled out only to have her make that delicious noise again. With almost impossible effort back in he slid and there it was again. Gods. Her noises alone were going to be his cause of death, he was sure of it.

Unfortunately, the prince was going far too slow for this little bitch of a queen. So, angling her knees inward, she managed to catch him off guard and flip him onto his back. Bulma was pretty sure she wouldn't have been able to do that without the element of surprise.

Before he could protest, she angled her hips and began moving like her life depended on it, panting with exertion. The sight alone of her swinging breasts had him squirming, hands grasping at her shoulders, warring between pulling her closer or pushing her away. The way she rode him told him she had much experience pleasing herself. Part of him found this lewd insight  _ incredibly  _ sexy of her. Saiyan women knew what they wanted and were widely known to take it by force. The other part of him  _ knew _ he had to teach the beta male how to fuck their woman as soon as he could arrange it. The fact that she was so used to taking charge of her pleasure was an egregious sin in desperate need of correction. A woman should want for nothing from a mate, especially in the bedroom.

Gods the way she moved as if her single goal were his pleasure had him shaking. He finally decided on holding her close so he could mouth at her impossibly soft breasts. The high pitched squeak of pleasure told him he'd been right. They were just as sensitive as any other race he'd ever come across. Perhaps more.

Testing the waters, he slapped at the other and she let out a happy scream, bouncing faster, if more erratic. His other hand came back to give her ass a resounding  _ smack _ and she moaned in encouragement.

Seemed the woman liked it rougher. Still, he'd have to be careful. He'd have to let her set the pace at first. Though the smacking she seemed to like. It was gentle for him but it seemed the appropriate amount to cause her pleasure. He'd have to remember that for later.

Without warning, her legs clenched around him, insides sucking him up to the hilt. She jerked, limbs pulsating almost and then he felt it. Her muscles were spasming around him and his own orgasm spilled out of him unbidden. It had been so long and she felt so good and the gentle O of her mouth was far too enticing in its lewdness. It all came together, crashing into him like the waves of a tsunami, unrelenting and endless.

Bulma, meanwhile, was ignoring how it felt to have a WHOLEASS ALIEN LIFEFORM spill himself inside her. (It felt pretty good actually) and it fed into her own orgasm, creating a loop of pleasure that made her toes curl. And he was holding her close like for all the world he was terrified she'd escape like the big softie he really was underneath all that grouchy bullshit.

Everything else would have to wait though as it hit her like a qi blast to the goddamn face that she had been an idiot and hadn't made sure he'd worn a condom. Bulma knew their two species were compatible too or Gohan wouldn't exist. Which meant that call to her friend she'd filed away for later would have to happen sooner than she had ever intended. Like as soon as she caught her breath and put herself together soon.

That was NOT a conversation she was looking forward to. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was their first time! I wanted to foreshadow Vegeta's change from villain to family man in a very big way. We're starting to see me fleshing out some Saiyan cultural differences a little. Like how I think a matriarchy would be fun to explore and how that might play out, especially with him just completely unsure with how much Bulma can handle. Were this a canon compliant fic, I think CANONICALLY, they shared one night and he fucked all the way off never intending to get involved with her or Trunks ever again. Then, during that 7-10 year gap post Cell saga, they fell in love and got married
> 
> BUT THIS AIN'T CANON AND I DO WHAT I WANT [shoots the badly abused corpse that is canon one last time for good measure] and what I want is to have fun exploring things and obliterating canon so hard Toriyama gets an ulcer. So why not just break absolutely everything. Characterization? The fuck is that? This is where that shit comes to die
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed the shameless smut. I'm a bit rusty with it and I wanted to show that it was physical and they were both not in sync. Like at all. Thus the back and forth and how disjointed it was. I promise it was an artistic decision and not me being a bad writer OTL
> 
> ALSO ALSO ALSO if you haven't yet, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check out my favorite vegebul fic by kaotic312 titled "Lost In Translation" which can be found here https://archiveofourown.org/works/2189706 and is ABSOLUTELY one of the formative works that shaped this monster-piece. It's so lovely and has my favorite thing (accidental marriage) and deserves all the kudos and comments you can possibly give. I know I'm always rereading it and I love it so much
> 
> I promise kaotic312 has 0 idea who I am I just super duper love that fic and need everybody to read it because I love it so much. Also also any questions or whatever else can be directed to my tumblr which is smjaygal for art and vann-haal as my main. I'm more than happy to info dump about this, DBZ, or anything else
> 
> Happy update!


	6. Bulma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma recalls a conversation she and Vegeta badly needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was such a pain in the ass. It just wasn't coming and wasn't coming and then when it did, it was way shorter than my 3k minimum I set for myself to have decently long chapters. But I tried and it's pretty close so here it is.
> 
> Lost in Translation sparked the inspiration behind the dynamic I'm trying to write between Vegeta and Bulma so please go read that wonderful fic. Their misadventures follow Lost in Translation's loosely so I try to summarize where I have no ability to differ completely.
> 
> Regardless, I tried. Please enjoy.

So Bulma did what she did best and avoided the conversation. It would only be an issue if she missed her period and there was no way she'd get pregnant off a one time thing. A super fucking hot, mindblowing one time thing but it wasn't going to happen again.

Until it did.

She had been bitching at him about treating the gravity room better and he'd bitched back about training and the end of the world and all that other stupid shit he was always spouting. She'd said something biting - she couldn't remember the exact words but it had _definitely_ been insulting - to which Vegeta rudely told her to go fuck herself.

The next part she remembered all _too_ well because, apparently, the Prince Of All Time And Space And Probably Existence Itself had taken "fuck me yourself, you coward" as a challenge and she had nobody to blame but herself really. Even if he'd absolutely blown out her back fucking her through her mattress. Which had needed replaced, much to her indignation.

Later, she'd taken plan b to be careful and then hit up her doctor for the pill because she was _not_ about to risk a third time unprotected. Especially with Vegeta being weirder than normal.

 _Not that there was going to BE a third time!_ She reminded herself, scowling at the metal in front of her face In a similar way Vegeta did at pretty much everything.

He had taken to kind of _stalking_ around the compound like some kind of wild animal. Almost like he was making sure Yamcha never showed up again. Fine by her since it did keep both of the idiots from bugging her. Even if it was really fucking weird. She could have sworn he even ended up outside her bedroom door sometimes.

It hadn't been a problem up until he found her in her lab. Again. Despite not wanting anything to do with him.

"Woman!" He demanded crankily.

Bulma could tell he was yelling since his voice was fainter than if he were nearer by but She didn't answer, hoping he'd go away because he didn't hear a response. She had totally important work to do and no time to spare on short and angry. No such luck, however, as his super alien hearing did hear her piddling around with the engine she was currently shoulders deep in. She could even hear him fume into the room.

Honestly, you could almost hear his eyebrows deepening.

It was somewhat true as Vegeta's scowl only increased when his mate didn't look up from her work at his arrival. Bulma could see it in the solid metal in front of her, reflecting from the chrome mirror up the wall that showed the whole of the shop. "Why didn't you answer my call?"

"Busy." She had hoped he'd buy it.

"You're always busy." Of course he didn't.

"Mm hmm," was her noncommittal reply, head and shoulders inside an engine and only her legs and butt sticking out.

She was trying to figure out if she could get the inner workings of the gravity chamber smaller in order to have more than one control panel. Redundancy would make for a machine that wouldn't shit itself every time Prince Fuckstick threw qi blasts. She was hoping if she could figure this out, she could go back to working on all the other shit she'd been ignoring since he'd moved in.

Prince Fuckstick in question clenched his fists to keep his rage in check, muscles cording from the effort. He couldn't let her know his feelings were a whirlwind. Stupid, sexy, macho prick. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Haven't been," a total lie and they both knew it, "just busy." Shit, she needed more wire. Except if she left the inside of the engine now, he'd take it as a sign that she wasn't as busy as she looked and would never leave.

"Don't lie to me, woman." Vegeta had figured out by now how his mate acted when she was legitimately working. This was not it.

"I'm not lying," she lied.

Vegeta tapped one booted foot. "Yes you are. You lie when you don't look me in the eye to spit your bile."

Oooooh he had her there and it pissed her off! Of course she was avoiding him! They'd had two super hot but also super weird one night stands together! She wasn't even looking for anything right and now it was super awkward and all she wanted to fucking do was curl up and die about it. Why _wouldn't_ she avoid him?

Her pause was all the confirmation he needed to continue digging deep. "And the beta male. He hasn't been by as usual."

Oh joy. They were onto talking about Yamcha. Her least favorite subject. Frankly,  she'd rather discuss their weird one night stands together. "So?"

"I want to know why." Because if it was something he did, Saiyan law required he make reparations for harming his mate's companion. Not that he did anything that he was aware. Trying to catch his mate's eye wasn't a crime and he hadn't chased off the beta male, let alone harmed him. So why? Is what he had ended up explaining to her later. Or something similar enough.

"None of your business."

Yes it fucking was, according to shortstack. "Are you angry with him?"

That had gotten her attention and she popped out to see if his face betrayed anything. No. He wasn't bullshiting. He looked too consternated to be anything but deadly serious. Vegeta, meanwhile, was trying to ignore the problem currently developing in his workout shorts at the sight of his mate covered in whatever that dark liquid was. He hoped she didn't notice.

"No? I mean we kissed? So he finally got the message and fucked off? Why do you care?" She squatted over to fish around in her toolbox for wire she was more than aware she didn't have.

Vegeta blinked, taking a moment to process. It was kind of cute, really. He looked like the flesh equivalent of a computer bluescreening. Not that she was into that or anything! She'd told herself she was done! And she was! She was totally done! No matter how hot he was! Or cute!

The prince approached slowly, searching her face as if she were something particularly deadly. Or like she was going to bite his head off and eat him. "You're companions."

"Were," she had chalked the word up to cultural difference. She shouldn't have.

"Were?"

"I broke up with him before Raditz even landed on earth." Which was not something she had wanted to get into now, then, or ever again really. She'd caught the bastard in bed with another woman and she'd cut him out of her life. And that had been it.

He could feel his eyebrows completely leave his face and Vegeta fought for control. He was pretty sure he was losing that particular battle. "So he was a nuisance?"

Bulma sighed, rubbing at her forehead and smearing more of that viscous fluid everywhere. "Yes. But why do you _care_?"

The Saiyan struggled for words at the best of times but now was worse. How was he supposed to explain his customs to an alien woman thousands of lightyears from his home exactly why he was asking? Bulma watched him clench and unclench his fists a couple of times and his scowl came back. The problem in his pants she had noticed before had disappeared. Seemed brain power killed whatever was going on downstairs.

Not that she cared, of course. Definitely, definitely not.

"We're mates. Mated. It is my duty to ensure the relationships with your other companions does not suffer." Those were the best words he had to try and explain himself. The ones he wanted didn't exist in her language.

Bulma was busy trying to figure out why he was using those words like they were titles or something. She should have asked sooner. She wished he had.

Setting her wrench down and peeling off her work gloves, she sighed, looking away. "Nothing has suffered."

"Another lie." He stepped closer. She hadn't told him off so all he could assume was that he still had permission to come closer.

It was so weird. It was almost like, hmm what was the word she wanted? He was being all soft and sweet? God what did it remind her of? Bulma _knew_ she'd seen this behavior somewhere before. It was concerned? But not quite? Ugh, what WAS it!?

"Did I not please you?" Somehow, his hands had found her hips and it was beyond distracting. They fit so perfectly like they'd been sculpted to hold her.

"You did," she breathed, instinctively leaning into him.

"Then there is no issue," his voice was a purr, luring her into security. 

Her racing thoughts had finally slowed as if his mere presence had calmed her. It was weird to Bulma that one person had this kind of sway over her. Even Yamcha hadn't ever managed to get her to calm like this. It felt so right. So perfect.

Earth woman sprang away from alien man as if electrocuted, finally coming to her senses. They'd been a hair's width from kissing! The opposite of what she'd wanted! And he was busy acting like! Like! Like some kind of over concerned boyfriend!

Vegeta, meanwhile, was beyond confused. He'd been trying to calm his mate's agitation. Her pheromones had been crying out for him but she'd kept her distance, going so far as to lock her sleeping chambers at night. She hadn't made any biting remarks and her father had fixed his room. He had come to try to get to the bottom of things, tried being delicate, and her reaction was this! How the fuck was he to calm his woman?

That's when she started screeching. "This is exactly what I didn't fucking want! You get in my space and my head! It just goes on vacation or some shit!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" His volume was level even if his tone was barbed. He was trying to avoid a shouting match. He just wanted his mate back to normal.

"This! You! Us! I don't know!" Bulma cried, hands in her shock of blue hair as she tried to force her thoughts into order. "I don't know what's going on!"

The prince kept his distance, genuinely unsure of how to proceed. "We're Mated? And new mates have the primal desire to," whatever word he used was guttural like a cat purr, "as much as possible."

"What was that word?"

"I do not know your word for it," he admitted with a shrug. "The act of making heirs. Pack making."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, all the information sliding into place. "So when you _bit_ me-"

"When we-"

"When _that_ happened, you're telling me we somehow," Bulma made a distressed gurgling noise as she searched for words. "We're, like, _imprinted_? Or something? And I want to what? Fuck you as much as possible?"

Ah so that was the meaning of the word fuck she used so often. He thought it was just another vulgar swear. Human sweats were not so different in origin from Saiyan ones. Interesting.

But that realization was dwarfed by one of more importance. Namely that she had initiated courtship without the knowledge of where it would lead.

Vegeta was _furious_. This low wench had treated his customs with such low regard! She had sealed them in a bond almost impossible to break and why? Was he just a toy? Did he mean nothing to her? Was he just some disposable pleasure meant to last one night? Was the second a mistake?

Not that Bulma had been entirely privy to these thoughts but, looking back, it was pretty obvious he'd been thinking something along those lines. His face had said it all really.

She remembered feeling the switch deep in her gut and, instinctively, she looked up from her own torment. And oh boy. Vegeta was vibrating. Which was. Not good.

Before she could ask, Vegeta hissed out the words. "You _bitch_! You initiated the mating ritual for what!? One night!? To throw me away!?"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait. Wait." She was blinking slowly, thrown for another loop. "Wait. Mating ritual? What?"

It was Vegeta's turn to blink, his anger sputtering to catch up. "Yes. You initiated. The female _always_ initiates."

Bulma was trying to keep up though, smart as she was, she was having quite a few difficulties. Mating ritual? One night? They'd been together twice. The second one, they'd kind of fallen into-

Her brain finally snapped to attention, putting two and two together. She'd commanded Vegeta to kiss her because of Yamcha. She'd wanted him to fuck off and then lied and oh fuck fuck FUCK! She'd stumbled into some kind of outer space ritual! Which made some kind of weird sense with how the Prince Of All Jackasses had acted about everything. Oh fuck her!

"Oh. That," were the words that finally crawled their way up her throat and out her mouth.

"Yes," short and angry hissed, " _that._ "

She sighed, resigning herself to the fact there was no way she was going to get anymore work done today. Or at least not until after she'd addressed this thing between them. "You weren't just some one night stand. I didn't know what I was doing. I mean I _did_. Kind of. I wanted him to fuck off forever because he wasn't taking no for an answer so I told you to kiss me but I didn't know how good you were and-"

He cut her off with a hand in the air. "So you used me to ward off your ex?"

"Yes but-"

"Without even knowing about the ritual!?" He was pacing.

"Yes but-"

"Woman!" The alien prince was doing his damndest not to roar and pretty much failing. "You said you and Kakarot-"

"Were friends, yes," she nodded.

"He didn't-?"

She shook her head, trying to figure out how to calm his weird outburst. "Goku hit his head as a baby and forgot everything. He doesn't know how to speak your language or any of your customs."

Vegeta growled, dragging his hand down his face. "And now I'm mated to the most annoying bitch this side of-"

That's when she slapped him.

Stunned, the prince stared at her in disbelief.

"Don't call me a bitch," she snarled.

A familiar smirk spread across Vegeta's face. _This_ he understood. This electric, violent back and forth they had. The way she told him to fuck her, how she clawed across his back during sex, and the way she bit back.

And wasn't that all that really mattered? The dark electricity that would bring an heir? She was highly intelligent, strong, a fighter.

"I believe I'll keep you," his tone was self satisfied.

"Keep me!?"

"Of course," his arms were around her waist again. "You're a fine enough mate."

And that's how she had somehow managed to end up in the tub trying to soak away her aches, replaying their conversation over and over again in her mind. She'd inserted where she could what she thought Vegeta's thoughts had been, changed what she said to see if things would play out differently. Every time she went through it, it garbled together so her original feelings blended with what she'd learned over the past month.

They'd been having mindblowing sex since then but it all hinged on that one conversation. She'd prodded and had more conversations, more explanations. He insisted she'd chosen him and she'd persisted. Those words layered over the original conversation and it was like it was happening and had already happened whenever she thought about it.

It had left her brain such a mess trying to untangle it all she couldn't make heads or tails of it anymore. Did she even want to? Should she?

Bulma sighed, her brain recalling the conversation they'd had after the third time they'd had sex. It took awhile to get past the cultural differences and undo the language barrier. Mate and spouse were the same and him calling her woman meant he was calling her his wife. As opposed to the "earth woman" that he _had_ been using for her or "Kakarot's woman" or "the scientist's woman" or the million other ways he referred to people.

She'd shrieked, her mother had rushed to see what was wrong, found them both naked and it had all been too much. Bulma sank lower in the tub, sighing as her ears flamed red at the memory. Explaining that she was now married to this idiot alien to her mother while naked and then later her father had been awful.

And then they'd fucked like bunnies for the past month because Bulma couldn't nut up and call her friend. She really was going to have to actually call Chichi about this mess sooner or later and the longer she waited, the worse it was going to be. She hadn't meant to somehow marry their former enemy trying to get Yamcha to piss all the way off. She hadn't meant to have more sex after.

But, somehow, here she was. In the tub and sore and in this huge, fucked up mess with an alien prince snoring a few feet away in her bed.

How, just _how_ was she going to talk about this to Chichi?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I tried. I have 0 beta readers so this gets posted directly from my Google doc as soon as a chapter gets finished. I'm also writing these out of order as inspiration hits.
> 
> Honestly, if anyone is down to help me out, feel free to send me an ask at smjaygal or vann-haal on tumblr. I'm literally just flying by the seat of my pants here and will take any help I can get. I just want to share something that makes me happy with people who will appreciate it.
> 
> Also, for anyone down to help, you get to see all the stuff I have planned chapters before it even happens. So you don't just get the next chapter. You get everything. So if that helps sweeten it for anybody.


	7. A Quick Apology to Subscribers

This is not an abandoned work! Just that I divorced my abusive wife and my new place has a demon in the basement I've been trying to deal with since August of 2019. That's taken up all my time and energy.

Please continue to be patient while I deal with the roommate from hell. I'm so grateful for the continued kudos and comments everyone has been leaving as well as the patience. This chapter will be deleted as soon as I can get something new up and replaced with said new chapter.

Feel free to talk to me over on tumblr where my art and writing blog is smjaygal and my main is vann-haal.

Again, I'd like to apologize for the delay and thank everyone for being so supportive and patient.

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2:30 in the morning so why not share what I've been sitting on? I've gotten requests for more dbz and here it is. I tried to tag everything I could think of including underaged because eventually Goten and Trunks get together.
> 
> Basically this will be piecing together all kinds of things I've loved from fic plus stuff I love. I'm polyamorous so everyone here is polyamorous. And by God everyone is going to get therapy because they really genuinely need it and I'm going to treat these characters like people instead of plot points.
> 
> Anyway chapters will come out as soon as my shit brain let's me finish one. Enjoy the mess that is my writing and my life choices. I'm gonna go pass out now.


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